


To Last Beyond the Grave [DISCONTINUED]

by Foremast



Category: The Letter for the King (TV)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It, It's not all bad, M/M, Post-Canon, Rated For Violence, but there is bad, sorry about that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23314051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foremast/pseuds/Foremast
Summary: Thirteen years after he dies, Jussipo comes back from the dead with no idea how or why he’s alive and no recollection of what he's been up to in the meantime. Together with Foldo and Piak he sets out to figure out the secrets of his past, but they run into unexpected trouble when it turns out that what Jussipo’s done in the years that he was gone has warranted a bounty on his head and a death sentence in his future. Having died once already, Jussipo isn’t exactly excited to repeat the experience and is determined to find the person responsible for this and to clear his own name.Edit 13/05/2020: i'm sorry lads, as much as i love this plot, i probably won't be continuing this fic because life has gotten in the way... do feel free to yell at/with me on tumblr about the show though because i still have lots of opinions about All Of That :)
Relationships: Foldo/Jussipo (The Letter for the King)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 60





	To Last Beyond the Grave [DISCONTINUED]

**Author's Note:**

> So this kind of spiralled out of control, when I outlined the story I was planning on this chapter being about 2500 words. I've tripled that, but it was worth it. To anyone who's read the original one-shot this fic was born from (To Face the Heaviness), this story, while sharing the same premise of Jussipo returning after being dead for 13 years, has no relation that one plot wise. That also becomes pretty clear in this chapter, but just as a warning. 
> 
> ~~I'll be updating this story once a week because I've also got some other stuff to do no matter how much I enjoy writing this fic and this storyline. The entire fic has already been plotted though and I'm already dreading chapter 5 so, ya know, let's go? :D~~ so. not that.

Jussipo wakes up in an unfamiliar room. Every single bone in his body aches and his muscles feel like they’ve been used as a bowstring. Somewhere nearby a goat is bleating loudly and continuously and the undeniable smell of perfectly roasted meet wafts into the room through the open window.

Jussipo throws up all over the floor.

The sound of his retching summons a girl about his age into the room and she hurries to hand him a bucket and a cannister of water. Over her shoulder she calls out to someone outside of Jussipo’s line of sight to get several buckets of water to wash out the floors as soon as possible. When Jussipo’s stomach seems to quiet down he attempts to drink some of the water the girl’s handed to him, only for his stomach to immediately revolt again and throw it back out as soon as the cannister’s empty. The girl only sighs and holds his hair back to keep it away from the splash zone.

And isn’t that odd? Jussipo doesn’t remember his hair ever being long enough to fall in front of his face like that. His mother had always been strict in making sure Jussipo’s hair stayed at a respectable length, no matter how much he’d argued about the benefits of growing it out. The benefits being that Foldo had always liked braiding hair but when they grew older none of the girls seemed to want to be friends with them anymore so Foldo had lost all his test subjects for his hobby and Jussipo had wanted to remedy that by growing out his own hair for him. He’d first suggested Foldo try braiding Iona’s hair, but Iona had looked ready to stab both him, Foldo and some innocent bystanders when he’d approached her about it, so he went with option B. Or well, he’d tried to. Now though, his hair was long enough to rival Lavinia’s, dirty enough too.

Jussipo’s stopped throwing up the contents of his stomach again and the girl hands him a damp cloth to at least clean his mouth, she doesn’t give him any water again, Jussipo doubts he’d be able to keep it in anyway.

“Thank you.” He croaks, and his voice sounds hoarse from the dryness in his throat.

“You’re welcome sir. How do you feel?” Sir? He can’t be any older than her and he was never actually knighted so there’s no reason to call him that. He wants to correct her but his dry throat protests at the thought. Instead Jussipo attempts an answering shrug, but winces at the pain that shoots through his right shoulder at the movement.

The girl notices his wince and heads over to what Jussipo presumes is a medicine cabinet, since she comes back with a mixture of herbs that she sets at the bedside table while she starts expertly unwrapping the bandages around his shoulder.

“You were pretty beat up when we found you in the forest, father didn’t think you’d live but grandmother and I insisted on bringing you here and attempting to heal you. You were out for a long time, what happened?”

What had happened? Jussipo tries to remember but his mind only draws blanks. The most recent memory he has is of the tournament and being led to the chapel. Then memories resurface of Tiuri and the squire, Sir Fantumar’s mission, the Red Riders, Ristridin. He remembers Lavinia and the cave and the fire and the village and the powers and Foldo. Foldo in the woods with him, huddled around the fire with Piak asleep, he remembers doing something he’s always wanted to do but had always been too afraid to ask. He remembers that night they shared, of quiet laughter and panting breaths and being closer to Foldo than he’s ever been to anyone before. And then the siege and Iona and the letter and Piak and…

He’d died, hadn’t he? Foldo was fussing but they’d won and Jussipo had died. He was certain of it, dying isn’t something you forget about, it’s a pretty life changing event.

The girl starts applying the herbs to the wound on his arm, a wound he didn’t remember getting. He was stabbed in the stomach but, aside from the inner turmoil it was in after throwing up all it’s contents, his stomach was alright. But he’d died in Unauwen’s castle, how had he ended up in the woods?

“Where…?” He asks, the rest of the sentence halting as his throat protests and he starts up a coughing fit. The girl pats him on the back until the coughing subsides and then continues applying the herbs and rebandaging the wounds as she explains.

“You’re in Laneer, we’re a small town on the South bank of the Blue River, near Eldemar.” He’s been in Eldemar before, Foldo took him once to visit the famous archery tournament they held every year. While Jussipo had always preferred close combat over shooting his enemies from a distance, he’d been readily impressed by the skills exhibited in Eldemar. There was a small side tournament too that Foldo had participated in, not voluntarily of course, Jussipo had signed him up without his knowledge and Foldo was too honourable to back out when he’d already been put on the roster. It was for his own good though, Foldo had always been the best knife thrower between the kids their age in their own city so he’d probably do well here too. And, Jussipo had argued, Foldo could use a little boost to his confidence. Unfortunately he’d greatly underestimated the skills of the older knights and hunters and Foldo hadn’t even made it to the top half of the scoreboard but he’d assured Jussipo that it was alright and that he’d appreciated Jussipo’s confidence in him, even if misplaced. Still, Jussipo had bought him dinner as an apology that night, even though he’d been saving up to buy a new set of strings for his lute. Foldo’s smile as he thanked Jussipo for the meal had made the delay in buying the strings worth it.

He’s roused from his memories by a tug on his shoulder as the girl fastens the bandages again. He can’t help but smile though, it was a good memory. After that first time the two of them had gone to Eldemar’s tournament every year. The girl gives his expression an odd look, he most look like the greatest lunatic in Dagonaut, his body bruised and damaged but smiling as if the world is still grand.

Then the realisation hits him. Eldemar, that’s in Dagonaut. He’s in Dagonaut. How did he get here? He hadn’t only ended up in a forest instead of Unauwen’s castle, he’d ended up in a forest in Dagonaut.

“I know you can’t really talk right now,” The girl startles him out of his slowly panicking thoughts and gives him another smile. “But if there’s anything wrong, don’t hesitate to call on me. My name is Eline, my brother Heimer will be in soon to clean up a bit. Don’t worry about him, he can be a bit of a nuisance sometimes, but he tries his best.” She looks him over again and nods to herself. “You should rest, it will help your body heal and hopefully settle your stomach. We’ll try getting you some sustenance when you wake up again.”

She gets up then and leaves the room. A boy close to Piak’s age scuttles in after her, carrying a bucket of water that he unceremoniously empties on the wooden floorboards. Jussipo internally winces, he wants to apologise to the boy for making such a mess, but he already feels his eyelids drooping again. Eline was right when she said he should rest and he can no longer resist the pull of sleep at his battered body. _Later_. He thinks. _I’ll figure this all out later and then I’ll find Foldo and Piak again._ He smiles at the thought of his best friend and brother and falls into a deep and dreamless sleep.

When he wakes up again the room is illuminated by nothing more than a small candle on the bedside table. There’s another cannister of water next to it and a small plate with some bread. His stomach is grumbling and his head is pounding, not the mention the awful taste of vomit that’s still in his mouth, so he decides to take the risk and reaches out for the food and water. It’s refreshing to drink something and to dispel the sour taste and even though the bread is a little stale, after what must have been over a week without food, its taste could rival even the greatest three course meal. He falls asleep again then, the small effort of sitting up and chewing had thoroughly exhausted his body. This time his sleep, though deep, isn’t dreamless and the rest of the night is spent in constant cold sweat and silent writhing.

He spends the next few days in much the same way, alternately waking and sleeping. Eline turns out to be a great conversationalist despite Jussipo’s inability to answer with more than a few words at a time and she tells him all about the town and her family. Her grandmother is the town’s resident healer and she’s been teaching Eline how to take over for her. Her father would rather have her focus on marriage and ensuring there’s an heir to the family but Eline gladly informs him that she intends to never marry any man and that Heimer will just have to be responsible for the heirs instead of her. She reminds him of Lavinia, although he couldn’t imagine Lavinia ever gently bandaging someone’s wounds like Eline did for him. She’d do the bandaging, although begrudgingly, but Jussipo is certain that it would hurt a great deal more had she been here to take care of him instead of Eline.

Eline loves her town and her family, she tells stories of Heimer and his friends getting up to all kinds of trouble and it reminds him of Piak and of Jussipo and Foldo back when they were younger. Foldo had never been one to look for trouble but Jussipo had always dragged him along into whatever hairbrained scheme he’d cooked up next. Foldo’s mother had once told him that he should stay away from her son after the two of them had gotten caught playing hide-and-seek on a rooftop one day. Her scolding hadn’t deterred him one bit and the next day he’d confidently stood in front of their front door to drag Foldo with him into the woods because some of the older kids had told him about an ancient beast in there that would eat children’s souls and Jussipo wanted to see it. They hadn’t been able to find the beast, but they had gotten incredibly lost and their fathers had found them huddled together in the dark when they’d gone looking, after the two of them hadn’t shown up for dinner that night. The scolding they’d gotten had been legendary and Jussipo had had to sneak in through Foldo’s window for the next few weeks because Foldo wasn’t allowed to leave the house and Foldo’s mother had told him in no uncertain terms that he was never to “fraternise” with her son ever again. Jussipo hadn’t known what fraternise meant so he’d elected to ignore her instead.

Eline asks him once if he has a wife, when his throat has mostly healed and he can speak in full sentences again, although he’s still a bit hoarse. He freezes at that, as a kid he’d never thought of his future as something with a wife in it. Even when he’d gotten older and all the boys his age had all been busy falling in love and the girls had started straying away from them and braiding their own hair instead of letting Foldo do it, he’d never really given it much thought. His idea had always just been him and Foldo, traveling the world and becoming famous knights together. He thinks about that night at the campfire and smiles; a wife really had never been in the cards for him.

He tells Eline that he isn’t married but she gives the smile on his face a suspicious look. Thankfully, Heimer runs in at that moment and stops Eline from questioning him any further. The boy doesn’t hesitate in ducking underneath the bed Jussipo is staying in and Jussipo shoots Eline a questioning glance. Eline just shrugs and continues the knitting she’d been working on while chatting with Jussipo.

Not too long after Heimer has taken refuge underneath the bed, a large man, who Jussipo has learned is Eline and Heimer’s father, Ingran, comes in and scans the room. Eline points towards the window behind her.

“He went out through the window again.”

“That little-” Ingran shakes his head and glares at the window that Heimer supposedly ran off through. “If you see him, tell him that if I have to hear about him causing havoc at the inn again that I’ll sell him to the next travelling circus that passes by without hesitation.”

Eline smiles sweetly at him. “The circus rarely ever comes here father.”

Ingran’s anger has turned his head a worrying shade of red and he glowers at his daughter. “I will tie him to the bottom of a wagon and haul him to Eldemar to find a circus if I have to.” Jussipo manages to hide his snicker but Eline is less successful and Ingran’s glare intensifies at the sound. “Don’t think I won’t send you off with him, you brat.” Eline grins and gives him a thumbs up. Ingran loudly slams the door when he turns around and leaves, presumably to hunt down the elusive Heimer again.

The elusive child in question wastes no time in coming out of hiding when his father’s gone and plopping down on the bed next to Jussipo. He accidentally jostles Jussipo’s still healing leg, it’d been broken when Eline found him, and Jussipo can’t hold back a wince and a pained grimace. Eline scolds him for it and Heimer solemnly vows to never do it again, causing Eline to roll her eyes at his antics.

“You should be thanking me for saving your ass again you idiot. What did you even do this time?”

“Nothing, I swear!” Eline gives him a disbelieving look. “Alright, barely anything then. I just wanted to see if Aelesia wanted to play!” Aelesia was the innkeeper’s daughter, Eline had told him before, and Heimer had had a crush on her for years now. “How was I supposed to know she’d be scared of the duck I brought her. It was going to be a surprise gift, I worked really hard to catch it for her too.” Heimer grumbles and Eline gives her brother a small smile.

“Come on, scoot over you two.” She says and forces Jussipo to move to the far edge of the way too small bed. She sits down next to Heimer and puts an arm around her brother’s shoulders. “I think you’re going about this the wrong way kid. You can’t just bring a girl farm animals if you want her to like you. You have to properly court her.”

“How would you know; you’ve never been near a boy in your life.” Heimer grumbles but leans into the embrace a bit more.

“Well I am a girl you know.” Heimer scoffs and Eline raises her eyebrow. “If you don’t trust my tips, why don’t you ask mister Jussipo, I’m sure he has lots of experience with girls.”

Heimer turns towards Jussipo then, eyes full of hope, and Jussipo can feel himself blushing. He awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. “Well, I don’t really.” He quickly hastens to explain himself at Heimer’s visible disappointment. “But I do know some tricks!” He pauses for a second. “Say, Heimer, do you know how to play the lute?”

He leaves the town of Laneer three weeks after he first wakes up. His bruises have all disappeared and most of his surface wounds and cuts have healed. The only main issues are his left leg and right arm, the leg had been broken and while he could walk pretty well he wouldn’t be able to walk any long distances at a time, Eline estimated that it would be properly healed in about two more weeks. His right arm is something he’d rather not think about it, the wound had been deep and grossly infected when they found him in the forest, Eline had guessed that he’d been there for at least a day already. While she’d tried her best to heal him, she hadn’t been able to completely restore it and he would probably never be able to fully regain his old strength. He resolved to start training with his sword in his left hand instead, if Tiuri could fight left-handed, why couldn’t he?

While he’s getting ready to leave, Ingran pulls him aside and shoos Eline from the room. Eline shoots Jussipo a worried look but Jussipo smiles at her to assure her he’s alright, even though he is slightly peeing his pants because Ingran is a pretty intimidating man and in the three weeks Jussipo had been conscious, they hadn’t actually talked before. His contact with the family had been limited to Eline and Heimer’s company and their grandmother who’d come in a few times to check on Eline’s work but who had mostly left him alone.

“So, Jussipo.” Ingran starts and Jussipo has to work hard not to look away from Ingran’s calculating gaze. “You’re leaving?”

“Yes, I’ve got some business to attend to, now that I’ve properly healed, thanks to your daughter and your generous hospitality.”

Ingran nods approvingly. “You and my daughter seem to get along well.”

There’s a question there, Jussipo knows there is, but he can’t seem to be able to find it. Instead he just nods in agreement. “She’s a great person, you’ve raised her well. Both your children.”

“Eline tells me that you are not married.”

Oh. Jussipo knows exactly what he’s been getting at now and is scrambling for the words to politely decline Ingran’s implication. “Ah no it’s not like that sir, Eline is great, don’t get me wrong, it’s just,” Jussipo fumbles for words. “There is something, someone, and well, uh, yes.” Jussipo can feel himself blushing and he furiously wills the rosiness away. “I hope he’s still waiting for me.” He finishes awkwardly and Ingran gives him a considerate look.

“So this why you insist on leaving even though you’ve barely healed.”

Jussipo nods awkwardly. “Yes.” Ingran is right, Eline had scolded him endlessly when he’d told her about his desire to leave, she’d told him in no uncertain terms that it would be best for him to stay at least for another two weeks if he wanted to properly heal. Jussipo was stubborn though and he’d always been the most stubborn when it came to Foldo. He knew he had to find him; he’d kept him waiting for far too long now.

“Well then, I wish you safe travels son. Heimer has prepared one of our old horses for you to ease your way.”

Jussipo startles at that, he’d expected to have to make the journey on foot. “You really shouldn’t have,” He starts to protest but Ingran hold up his hand to silence him.

“I’m not just doing you a favour, you’re doing me one too. The horse is too old and weak for the work we need him to do and we can’t afford to care for him while also to caring for the work animals. Eline and Heimer are very fond of him though, so I do not wish to get rid of him in a more harmful way.”

Jussipo nods. “Thank you, then.”

Ingran leads him outside to where Eline is waiting for them with the reins of a brown stallion in her hands. “Take good care of him.” She says as she holds out the reins. He takes them and then envelops her in a hug.

“Take care of yourself Eline.”

She gives him a watery smile. “You’re the one who’s traveling with a half-mangled body, you idiot.” He salutes her and gives her a large grin. “Don’t do anything overly stupid,” She continues. “I won’t always be there to save your dying ass from the woods again.”

“Then I’ll have to come back every once in a while, to prove to you that I’m still alive.”

“As if I’d ever want to see your stupid face again.”

“Ah, Eline, you will make someone very happy one day.” She punches his good shoulder and gives him a glowering look.

“Hey now! No need to damage me even more! You’ll ruin all of your hard work.”

“Prat.”

“You know you love me.” He says as he climbs on top of the horse and gives Eline a wink.

“Just leave already. And you better take care of Judo well or I’ll come kill you myself.”

He salutes her again and gives her one last grin. “Yes ma’am!” He turns towards Ingran then, who’d had to witness the entire interaction between his daughter and their guest and was silently glad that Jussipo hadn’t taken an interest in her, otherwise he’d probably have to put up with this for the rest of his life. “Thank you for your generosity in letting me stay and allowing me to take Judo on my travels. I will remember your kindness.” Jussipo says and Ingran gives him a polite nod.

“Take care son, and good luck.”

Jussipo rides away then, at the edge of town Heimer waves him goodbye. He holds an old lute he’d managed to procure from some basement in the hand he’s waving while holding the hand of the innkeeper’s daughter in his other. Jussipo grins at the sight, he’d only taught Heimer a few chords but the boy had taken to song-writing like a fish to water and had serenaded the poor girl until she’d agreed to spend time with him. His tactics were not unlike Jussipo’s own, he thinks fondly.

He sets course for Eldemar then, the ride would only talk half a day at most and he was planning on asking around there about the whereabout of any of his old friends. He doesn’t know how long it has been since their battle in Unauwen, he hadn’t allowed himself to think about it, but he knows that it has been long enough that he can’t guarantee that Foldo would still be in Unauwen. Really, Foldo could be anywhere right now and he’s hoping their activities in Unauwen have garnered them enough attention for people to recognise Foldo’s name. He hopes Foldo and Tiuri and even Arman have gotten their knighthood by now, they’d definitely deserve any honour the queen could bestow upon them.

His journey to Eldemar is uneventful, the road he follows has always been well protected and is bustling with all kinds of folk the closer he gets to the city. They’re all travelling away from the city though, their jubilant expressions suggesting that they were on their way back from some kind of festivity in the city. When Eldemar itself finally comes into view he recognises the tell-tale signs of a tournament having happened not too long ago. Large tents in colourful clan colours are slowly being taken down all around the city walls and the fields are a hustle and bustle of servants and young lords and ladies and their admirers. He steers Judo towards a man who seems to be taking a break on the side of the road and is casually leaning on the large sack he’d previously been carrying.

“Pardon me, sir, what tournament has just ended here?”

The man looks at him incredulously, as if it’s unbelievable Jussipo wouldn’t know the answer. “Eldemar’s archery tournament of course!” He exclaims and gives Jussipo another scolding once-over. He scoffs at the sight of Jussipo’s cheaply mended clothes and his old horse. “A country man, huh? This is no place for farmers, we’ve got enough wannabe knights around here as it is, don’t need another one of yours.” His words leave Jussipo reeling, while he hadn’t been from a family like Tiuri’s or Arman’s, who’d grown up in their own castle, he’d always been well off and had been treated with respect because of that.

He looks down at himself and sighs, he could understand the man’s assumption of his origins. The clothes he wore had been old and battered left-over’s from Ingran and no matter how much effort Eline had taken into mending them, they were still stained and ripped in places and hung off his much smaller body like oversized rags. Eline had told him that the clothes they’d found him in hadn’t been much better and that they had been too stained with blood to be of any use, so she’d had to burn them. The man must think him quite the sight, with his still long hair half tied up and on his elderly horse. He didn’t even have a sword because he’d been found without one.

“Who won?” Jussipo asks before the man can further delve into Jussipo’s useless character but the man scoffs again.

“Who won? He asks. As if you’ve been living under a rock for the past few years. Sir Piak won of course, as he’s been doing for five years now. That man really is something admirable, you could learn something from men like him.”

“Sir Piak?” Jussipo eyes widen at the name and he ignores the man’s insults. “Sir Piak of Mirtelan?”

“Of course it’s Sir Piak of Mirtelan, what other Sir Piak is there?”

“For five years in a row?” This couldn’t be right, Piak had never been to Eldemar before, his mother wouldn’t let him travel to the tournament with Jussipo and Foldo because she hadn’t fully trusted the two of them with his safety. They’d promised to take Piak with them when they were knights though, but then everything with the letter had happened.

“No reason to repeat everything I’ve said. Of course Sir Piak won, just like he has ever since the 42nd tournament. Even a country idiot such as you should’ve heard of him by now.”

The man continues on about how useless Jussipo is and how he really isn’t welcome in the city but Jussipo’s own panicked thoughts drown him out. The last time Foldo and Jussipo had been to the tournament was a few months before the knight trials, that tournament had been the 34th annual Eldemar archery tournament. If this man was to believe, thirteen years have passed since then. Jussipo feels like he might be sick again. How had he lost thirteen years? This couldn’t be right.

He steers Judo away while the man is still mid-sentence and leaves him cursing his back. He heads over to the nearest person who isn’t scowling, a young lady who’s silently watching her children run around and play in the grass a few feet away from her. He gets off his horse and she gives him a smile as he approaches her.

“You’re a bit late for the festivities.” She says. “All the major clans have headed home already.”

Jussipo only faintly registers her words, he’s swaying on his feet a bit. “Ma’am, could you tell me,” He stumbles as he puts too much pressure on his still healing left leg and has to keep himself up by Judo’s neck. His head feels faint and dizzy and the young lady looks at him with worry.

“Do you need help?” She turns to call for someone but Jussipo stops her.

“No, no, it’s alright. I’m alright. Ma’am I need to know, how many of these annual tournaments have already passed?”

The lady frowns at him. “This was the 47th tournament.”

“So it’s been thirteen years since the 34th?” The lady pauses to think for a second and then nods. Jussipo feels ill.

“I’m looking for a man, Sir Foldo, do you know if he’s here?”

“I’m sorry,” She shakes her head. “Sir Foldo left this morning.”

Jussipo can’t believe his luck. If he’d just left Laneer a day earlier than he had he would’ve still been able to catch Foldo here at the tournament. He silently curses his dawdling even though he knows he’s already pushing his health by making the journey now. He wants to ask her about Foldo, about how he did in the tournament and how he was doing in general. Did he look old and ancient already or was he still the awkward beanstalk Jussipo knew. Had he been accompanied by a family? A wife or children perhaps?

“Where did he go?” He finally settles on asking.

“I assume he want home.” The lady gives Jussipo’s still slightly swaying form another look. “I believe he lives somewhere in the Mirtelan area now, although I’ve heard that he’s rarely ever home and prefers to travel and lend aide wherever needed.”

Jussipo can’t help but smile at the thought of Foldo honourably traveling the lands to help the people. “Thank you.” He says and gives her a small nod. He’ll head for Mirtelan then, the city the both of them had grown up in. He instructs Judo to continue on the road they’d been following before and loses himself in his whirling thoughts.

He’d thought it’d been weeks or months since his death, not years. It’d been over a decade since he died but he doesn’t feel like he’s been dead for the same amount of time. Something inside him knows that for a fact. It concerns him, because if he hasn’t been dead for all those thirteen years, then what had he been? And why couldn’t he remember it? He has no idea how he went from being dead in Unauwen to being alive in a forest in Dagonaut. Foldo would probably know some kind of story about this, about dead people coming back alive after a decade and traveling across borders and then almost drying again. Maybe Lavinia’s fancy Eviellan powers could even give some insight into it, but he has no clue where she is right now. He tries to imagine his friends as old as they must’ve become. They might even have families, wife’s and children and reputations.

The thought of all of them moving on hurts him. He didn’t exactly want them to spend the rest of their lives feeling sad about his passing, but it still feels wrong. He tries to picture Foldo with a wife or husband and a small gaggle of children equally as adorable and awkward as Foldo had been when they were young. What if Foldo had already moved on? Who was he to turn up after thirteen years and to ruin everything Foldo had built for himself? Who was he to think he could even ruin anything? Why would he assume he would have any real impact on Foldo’s life now, he’d been dead for almost as long as he’d been alive.

The painful truth presses down upon him as Judo continues their ride to the East. No matter what Foldo thinks of him now, he has nowhere else to go. He would never be able to forgive himself if he sought out Arman or Tiuri first, they’d been his friends, sure, but they aren’t Foldo. It’s selfish, in a way, because he dismisses the thought of Foldo not wanting to see him as soon as it turns up. It doesn’t really matter whether Foldo wants him or not, Jussipo’s missed out on thirteen years of time with his best friend and he’s not running away from him now.

Foldo will probably be able to make the journey to Mirtelan in three days, he’s always been a good rider and as a knight with such a reputation as he apparently has now, he’ll most likely have a horse much faster than Jussipo’s Judo. He can’t really fault Judo for it though, Jussipo is also still weak and wounded so even a faster horse wouldn’t have been able to speed up their travels much.

He pats Judo’s neck. “What a pair we make buddy.” Judo flicks his tail in response and Jussipo laughs. At least he’s got some company for the ride.

Jussipo steers Judo away from the road when the sun starts setting. He doesn’t have the money to afford staying at an inn, but he’s got enough experience travelling to be unbothered by sleeping outside. He finds a small clearing in the forest and sets up camp there. The past few weeks have barely seen any rain so it’s not too hard to find some dried out branches to start a small fire.

He doesn’t have anything fancy in the way of food, Eline packed him some bread and apples before he left, which should be enough to last him a few days if he rations it well. He decides to start on the bread now, since that’s most likely to go bad first, and uses the campfire to toast it. Foldo had always made fun of his refusal to eat plain bread, Jussipo had always thought it didn’t taste well without at least some scorched corners. As he grew older, he’d learned to tolerate the taste, but since he wasn’t being hunted now there was no reason to shy away from starting a fire to make his meagre meal a bit more enjoyable. Judo seems to be very much in disagreement with this idea and stays as far away from the fire as he possibly can.

“Sorry buddy, we need the fire to scare away the animals.” Jussipo apologies, but Judo shakes his head in obvious disapproval, as if to argue that he’s perfectly capable of scaring away animals himself. Jussipo laughs at his thoughts, to think he’s been on his own for less than a day and he’s already communicating with his horse.

Jussipo’s been trained to be a light sleeper when he’s alone, it’s a skill his father had ensured he’d develop from a young age. If you’re on your own without four walls and a roof to protect you then you should never be able to have a good night’s rest, he’d always told Jussipo. Training this instinct had been hell when he was younger because his father would make him sleep outside on his own and then sneak up on him several times in the night to scare him. Now though, he’s grateful for his father’s training, because when he wakes up to the sound of scuffling, he knows that it might’ve just saved his life.

He can hear two or three people moving around in the shrubbery around him, their whispers almost impossible to pick up. He might not be able to hear what they’re saying but he knows that he’s in for trouble, they’re obviously still scoping out the situation but the moment they realise he’s on his own and unarmed they won’t hesitate to charge. He’ll have to be a disappointment to them though, he has nothing of value to steal. He knows what that means for him, they’ll get frustrated at his lack of possessions and he’ll probably be either killed or seriously harmed, depending on how malicious his new friends are. Judo’s ears have also perked up and he’s giving Jussipo a look, as if to ask him how he’s going to fix this then.

Since they’ll come into his clearing no matter what, Jussipo decides it’s best to be prepared and inches his hand towards one of the large branches he’d collected the evening before to fuel his fire. The movement around him stops and he internally curses, they know he’s awake now and he’s lost the element of surprise. Before he has the chance to formulate a new plan, three figures jump out from the foliage with their swords brandished. Jussipo wastes no tame in picking up the branch to fend of the first attack from the man closest to him. The man seems taken aback by Jussipo’s unexpected skill and Jussipo manages to land a solid hit into his stomach and the man doubles over in pain.

The fight is over in a second, but the other two men haven’t been intimated by the sight, they approach Jussipo and together they start a flurry of attacks that Jussipo can only just fend off. He’s holding the branch in his right hand but he can feel the wound on his shoulder tearing open again, blood’s dripping down along his arm and his grip is starting to get slippery from the red liquid that’s slowly pooling around his fingers. He groans in pain when he has to block the next hit. The men aren’t skilled sword fighters and their hits lack the powerful finesse of a knight, but they are stronger than Jussipo currently is and their swords, though cheap, are infinitely sharper than Jussipo’s surprisingly sturdy branch.

In a desperate last attempt at winning Jussipo switches his hold on the branch from his right hand to his left, but his assailants are more perceptive than expected and they immediately home in on the weakness Jussipo has just exposed. The man on the left moves on from aimed attacks to just trying to hit Jussipo as much as possible, forcing Jussipo to fully focus on fending of the constant stabs and swings that come his way. While he’s focused on these attacks the man on the right makes quick work of hitting Jussipo’s right shoulder with the flat of his sword. The attack is strong and unexpected and incredibly efficient in immediately knocking Jussipo down to the ground, his legs crumble beneath him as he screams out in pain and the adrenaline streams out of his body. He’s trembling and panting, trying to catch his breath as the men above him laugh at his misery. The man who’d been hit in the stomach before has also gotten up and gives the floored Jussipo a well-aimed kick in the side.

“Well then, let’s see what we’ve got here.” The man who’d knocked him down hoists Jussipo up by his hair and gives him a pitiful look. “Aren’t you a sight, the woods are no place for guys like you.” He carefully observes Jussipo’s ragged clothes and throws him back on the ground. “Aldus, check his bag, he doesn’t have anything on his person.”

The man who’d been on his left during the attack, Aldus, heads towards the bag that lays on the ground near where Judo is standing. Judo starts loudly protesting his approach however, despite his age, he’s an intelligent horse and is clearly aware of the threat these three new man pose. Judo’s loud neighing successfully distracts the two men still standing over Jussipo’s body and Jussipo takes his chance to make a final bid for freedom. He uses the last of his strength to grab the end of one of the logs in the still burning fire, he ignores the pain of the scorching heat on his bare skin and flings the flaming log towards the dry foliage at the edge of the clearing. The men notice his movement but before they can properly react, a large flame shoots up from where Jussipo’s log has just landed and the nearby trees quickly start catching fire.

The fire spreads towards Judo and the panicked horse breaks the reins that Jussipo had used to tie him to up. In his desperate bid for freedom he lands a kick to Aldus’s head and the man falls down to the forest ground, a large pool of blood forming around his head. The other two men don’t hesitate to give up on their prey and their fallen friend and they run away from the spreading fire towards the road Jussipo had been travelling upon just a few hours ago.

Jussipo wants to follow their example but he can’t with good conscience leave Judo behind, no matter the danger the horse currently poses for his safety as he now seems to be unaware of his surroundings. Jussipo gets up, trembling, and calls for the horse in what he hopes to be a calming way. Judo turns around at the sound of his voice, but he doesn’t seem to register Jussipo’s presence, the only thing Judo takes notice of is the lack of fire behind Jussipo and he starts running towards safety. Jussipo has to jump to the side to avoid the horse barrelling by and he awkwardly lands on his left leg, which immediately crumbles underneath his weight.

It’s ironic, in a way. Jussipo’s come back to life, only to die before anyone knows about his return in a forest fire he himself had started. He’s not willing to give up though, he’s already died once and he’s not doing it again. Jussipo refuses to die of anything other than old age now, he’s already had his heroic death once and he doesn’t need a repeat. A small voice in his head points out that there’s nothing heroic about dying in his own forest fire but he quickly silences it, no point in thinking about that.

He picks up his final reserves of strength and heads in the direction the men and Judo had disappeared in. He’s lucky that the wind is blowing the fire in the opposite direction because otherwise it would’ve quickly caught up with his stumbling form. He makes it out of the forest eventually, but Judo and the men are nowhere to be seen and the road is deserted. He doesn’t have the energy to go any further than crossing the road and he sags down in the relative safety of the dirt.

He doesn’t know how much time passes or if he’s even conscious for all of it, but after a while of trying to catch his breath and coughing the smoke out of his lungs, the sound of hoofs breaks through the fog in his brain and he opens his eyes. There’s a group of riders coming up ahead, the one in front is instructing the others to head over to the nearby villages to warn them of the fire and lend their aide in stopping it from spreading further. The group halts a few yards away from Jussipo, but they don’t seem to notice him laying in the dirt. They converse for a few minutes while shooting worried glances towards the blazing forest before splitting up and heading off in different directions. Only one of the riders heads in Jussipo’s direction and Jussipo struggles to sit up to catch the rider’s attention. As he sits up, he’s finally able to clearly see who it is that’s approaching him. He can’t hold back the small gasp as he takes in the sight. He’s gotten taller and broader, Jussipo hadn’t thought that was even possible, but he still has the gentle face of the boy he first fell in love with all those years ago.

Jussipo doesn’t expect the tears and the choked off sob that suddenly come bubbling up and the rider, _Foldo_ , his mind reminds him, who hadn’t noticed him before, turns towards him with a startled look. He opens his mouth, presumably to ask if Jussipo’s alright, but pauses and frowns. He gives Jussipo another once-over and in any other situation Jussipo would’ve laughed at the way the shock makes him almost drops the sword he’s holding in his hand.

Jussipo can’t help but smile at him, at this man who he can’t deny loving, even after all these years. For a moment, they don’t move. But then Jussipo takes a step forwards and Foldo is off of his horse in an instant as he envelops Jussipo in a hug that leaves Jussipo feeling weak and broken.

“Oh god Foldo I can’t believe you’re actually here.” And he laughs and cries at the same time, Foldo crying with him as the fire blazes on behind them and everything else in the world is forgotten except the two of them. Foldo pulls away from where he’s buried his head in Jussipo’s hair and Jussipo wants to protest but before any words can leave his mouth Foldo’s lips are on his and Jussipo’s thought are carefully silenced.

“Jussipo.” Foldo sighs as he pulls away again, but his face is still barely inches away from Jussipo’s own, his eyes roving over every single detail of Jussipo’s eyes and nose and mouth, trying to take it all in, to ensure that it’s all real.

Jussipo leans his head against Foldo’s chest. “I’m not leaving again Fol.” He says. “Never.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes Jussipo did just start a forest fire and then made out with his pre-death boyfriend while it was still on fire. Don't worry about. 
> 
> On another note: Foldo is a badass and I love him and I'm so sorry for putting him through this pain. It kind of just got worse the more I wrote? This boy needs a hug and also therapy.
> 
> [Come bother me on Tumblr](https://argoniodine.tumblr.com/) where I like to shitpost into the void but also really just enjoy talking to people about a bunch of different things :)
> 
> Again: this will most likely not be continued. I love the story and I've got the whole plot planned out already but just. Life. :/


End file.
